Death's Cold Embrace
by Mya Uzo
Summary: Dumbledore had always said that death was the next great adventure. Harry wasn't going to let such a silly thing, like Tate being dead and his tendency to kill people, to get in the way. Because Harry loved Tate just as much as Tate loved him. Tate/Harry. Slash. Dark Harry
1. Chapter 1

I can't believe I am starting another fic. I will try to keep it shortish. I am thinking about 15k or so maybe less maybe more who knows? Also why hasn't anybody written this pairing yet? This will be a dark story. Harry/Tate with a happyish ending. Also, I am going to seriously mess with the timeline here. Just…don't question it.

Over powered Harry here people.

I do not own Harry Potter or American Horror Story

Chapter 1

" _I used to come here…when the world closed in and got so small I couldn't breathe. I'd look out at the ocean, and I'd think…"Yo. Douche bag, high school counts for jack shit."-Tate_

"I don't see why you think about it so much." Harry admitted, "You only have about two years left. Then it's over. You can leave this place, this town."

Harry continued to run his fingers through Tate's blond hair. Tate turned his head in Harry's lap and continued to stare at the ocean.

"You don't understand." Tate sighed.

Harry's hand stilled.

"You're right. I don't. I'm only ten. I have at least eight more years of schooling." He teased.

Tate turned his head and frowned up at the ten year old boy.

"I guess you're right. I just get so angry sometimes. Sometimes I feel like I can barely breathe." He sighed and Harry continued stroking his hair.

"I'm here for you, Tate. I promise."

Harry had moved to the neighborhood with his horrible family a year ago. They had met on the beach one night and bonded immediately. The ten year old boy was the only one Tate could talk to. The only one he could confide in without feeling like a freak. There was something _wrong_ inside of Tate. _He_ was wrong, but Harry made him feel sort of normal. Harry made him look past those horrible feelings and urges inside of him.

Tate loved him deeply.

Tate stared up at him while Harry looked at the dark ocean. Tate studied the younger boy's soft features, and emerald green eyes. He viciously squashed the stirring inside of him. Tate was many things, but he was not one to touch a child.

He could wait.

-One month later-

"Tate. I'm sorry." Harry apologized.

"You were supposed to be here for me! You were supposed to stay with me!" Tate yelled angrily. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Harry looked down and blinked away his own tears.

"I don't want to leave, but I have to. My relatives want to return to England."

Tate's shoulders sank.

"I want to stay with you. I really do." Harry grabbed Tate's hand and stared into tearful black eyes, "Please believe me." He begged.

"I do." Tate said quietly. He sank to his knees and hugged Harry around his waist.

Harry ran his fingers through Tate's hair. He knew it would be many, many years before he would be able to again.

"I will come back when I am of age. I promise." Harry pulled back from Tate. Tate let go reluctantly.

Black eyes opened wide in shock.

Harry pulled away from the chaste kiss.

"I love you, Tate. I will be back one day, I swear."

Because Harry loved Tate just as much as Tate loved him.

He would be back one day.

Tate's sanity rapidly dwindled after Harry's departure. The drugs helped.

On normal days Adelaide and Beauregard held him together. When his mother verbally abused him or when he had a shitastic day at school only Harry's promise kept him together. Harry was the glue to his fractured mind.

Then Beauregard was killed.

Tate couldn't take it anymore.

His mother's lover _burned_ and Tate prepared for the noble war.

It wasn't until it was all over and he was dead that he regretted it. Harry would have been so disappointed in him.

Tate did many things that he regretted over the next few years. He killed people. So many people.

Time passed and Harry didn't come. Tate would wait. He could wait. Harry would come back and fix him, make him sort of normal again, love him again.

Tate waited for eight years. Harry would have been eighteen, old enough to come back to him.

Tate waited three more years. Maybe Harry needed some time to get the funds? Maybe he was held up by college? Harry was pretty smart.

Tate waited two more years.

Tate waited and waited and waited.

Had he heard that Tate had died?

Why would he come by the house if he had? There was no point in flying across the world to visit the house of a psychotic, dead teenager.

Tate waited, but as time passed he grew more certain that Harry was never coming back.

Tate stopped waiting. The Harmons moved in soon after.

They would dearly regret it even in death.

Harry's life was one extreme after another. Every year he nearly died and only the thought that Tate needed him kept him from giving in to the pressure. The wizarding world needed a savior. He had to fix everything that the older generations had fucked up.

And then he died.

Harry had chosen death, really. He had chosen it not for the wizards, not for the people who thought they were his friends. He had chosen death for Tate.

If Voldemort lived what life would Tate, a muggle, have?

So, Harry sacrificed himself for his beloved.

And came back to life.

Came back to imprisonment.

The wizards had betrayed him, fearful of his powers. Those that had cozied up to him turned their backs on him. Ten years. He spent ten years imprisoned, his magic siphoned off, and his body useless.

They thought he was sleeping, but he was oh so aware.

Ten years later one of them killed him. A hateful, spiteful man suffocated him.

Freed him.

Somethings inside of Harry had fractured, but he couldn't bother to figure out what.

Dumbledore had always said that death was the next great adventure.

Harry's magic flared brightly.

Cold, menacing and oh so deadly.

No one in the building would survive. Those who had betrayed him were slaughtered mercilessly. For Harry was Death and Death had no mercy.

The Harmon Family had been dead for just over three years when Harry turned up at the infamous Murder House.

Tate may be dead, but Harry always kept his promises.

AN: Review! Review! Review! I am serious.


	2. Chapter 2

I am glad you guys like the fic! I haven't had any complaints so far, but the writing is supposed to seem choppy in some places.

I do not own American Horror story or Harry Potter

Chapter 2

" _If you love someone, you should never hurt them."-Tate_

* * *

The moment Harry stepped onto the grounds he felt it.

Old magic. Powerful magic.

Harry closed his eyes and sent his magic into the land. Someone had cursed this ground. Those who died on it stayed for eternity. It was a very powerful curse, indeed.

Hoped welled up inside of Harry.

Tate had died here.

Harry searched with his magic.

There were many trapped souls here, dozens, but only a handful of them were aware. Others had faded into some sort of sleep only coming to awareness when something triggered them.

Tate was here. Tate was one of the aware and he was _strong_.

Harry held back from caressing Tate's dark aura with his own. Instead, he walked into the house to explore.

The spirits didn't bother him. Most watched him curiously although unknowing that he was aware of their presence.

Harry walked around the house. It was beautiful and the atmosphere was wondrously dark. The darkness inside of Harry practically purred. The house couldn't hurt him as it had hurt the others.

Harry, _Death_ , was beyond it.

Finally, he ended up in Tate's old bedroom. It stood painfully empty.

Harry had never been in there before. They had always met at the ocean, but Tate had described it. Harry would take this room as his.

Harry exited the house and pulled out his cell phone.

"Yes, I'm calling about the house. I want it."

* * *

Everyone was curious about the new owner. He had bought the house outright and furnished it, but hadn't stepped foot inside of it since the first day. The nicer ghosts were thinking of ways to scare him out of the house, to protect the seemingly innocent teen, but the other ghosts couldn't be bothered.

Tate had been playing in the basement with Beauregard and had not seen the new owner, but he was curious.

Those that would still talk to Tate only described him as a young man with long black hair. He wondered if Violet would like him. She seemed lonely.

Tate loved Violet, she may not love him anymore, but that was okay. He had done horrible things to her family.

Maybe Ben was right and he didn't deserve to be loved.

Tate could love though. He loved Harry still despite his absence and he loved Violet despite her hatred of him. He also loved Beauregard and Adelaide even though she was horrified at what he had done.

Tate could love and he would never hurt those he loved. Well, not on purpose anyways.

Then _he_ came.

Tate couldn't breathe.

All he could see was emerald green eyes and a faded lightning bolt scar.

"Harry." He breathed in disbelief.

The new dark haired owner of the house was _Harry_.

 _Harry_ who had been gone for twenty years.

 _Harry_ who Tate had loved desperately, still loved desperately.

 _Harry_ who Tate had given up on ever returning.

Everything Tate felt for Violet paled drastically in comparison to what he felt for Harry. Harry was _everything_. He had always been.

The first day Harry returned to the house, Tate remained hidden from his sight. Harry looked much younger than Tate thought he would. He matched Tate's physical age instead of the thirty year old he should be.

Harry was beautiful. _Stunning_. His eyes had brightened and his scar faded. He had grown his hair out and wore it in a long French braid that draped to the middle of his back. He was just a few inches shorter than Tate, and petite. Harry had grown up rather androgynous looking. Not that Tate was complaining.

Once again Tate was ashamed of himself and what he had done.

After all of this time he was ashamed to show himself to Harry, to tell him of all that he had done. Harry had been Tate's conscience, and without him Tate had lost control. Harry's memory had not been enough. Tate knew Harry would be incredibly disappointed in him. He had done many terrible things.

* * *

Two days later, Tate had yet to show himself to Harry and the wizard was growing annoyed. The maid had shown herself using the image of an old woman. Harry invited her to tea and worked out her cleaning schedule. She was rather nice actually.

Harry was rather curious of the other image she possessed of a young woman.

She must have died young, but maintained the façade of aging to the world.

How tragic.

Harry was more curious about Tate however, he had yet to show himself and Harry was growing rather fed up.

Harry climbed out of the shower, dried off a bit, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He quietly padded into his room before stopping, stunned.

He stared at the figure on the bed, his heart beating hard.

"Tate." He whispered.

Tate hadn't changed much but Harry hadn't expected him to. Tate had died young, not long after Harry had left the States actually.

Tate sat on the edge of the bed stiffly. Staring down at his lap looking like a guilty child.

"Tate." Harry repeated louder.

Tate looked up at Harry, meeting the other eternal teen's face.

Jesus, why had he decided to show himself again? This was stupid. So stupid.

Before he could fade out into nonexistence Harry lunged at Tate startling him.

Tate fell back on the bed. Harry crawled on top of him and kissed him desperately.

Tate broke the kiss.

"Harry I-"

"Tate, shut up and fuck me. I've waited decades for this moment."

There wasn't much talking after that. There was need and desperation. There was lust and love. There was twenty years of pent up god damn _waiting_ and _finally_ they didn't have to wait anymore.

Harry was here.

Tate was here.

And that was all that mattered.

Later, they would talk about Harrys lack of aging, and Tate's ghost status, but for now all they wanted to think about and feel was each other.

AN:so…I wrote this. This chapter was lighter than I was expecting, but itll get all doom and gloom again. I Promise.


	3. Chapter 3

I am glad you guys like the story!

Chapter 3

' _I prepare for the noble war. I'm calm, I know the secret. I know what's coming and I know no one can stop me not even myself. I kill people I like. Some of them beg for their life. I don't feel sad. I don't feel anything. It's a filthy world we live, in it's a filthy goddamn world and honestly I feel like I'm helping to take them away from the shit and the piss and the vomit that run through the streets. I'm helping to take them to somewhere clean. There's something about all that blood man I drown in it.'- Tate Langdon_

* * *

"I've killed people." Tate whispered.

"I know. I've killed people too." Harry whispered back. Both boys were lying on the bed snuggling. Harry hadn't felt this peaceful in years. Tate felt the same.

"Tell me about it?" Tate asked.

Harry told Tate about the wizards and their war. About how he was forced into the role of a hero and at times a scapegoat. He told Tate about their betrayal and his forced sleep.

Tate stared at him with black eyes.

"Are they dead now?" He asked an undercurrent of anger in his voice.

Harry leaned over and kissed him softly.

"Very." He murmured against Tate's lips.

Those who had pretended to be his friends had their souls completely wiped out of existence. For them, there would be no second chances.

"I guess it's my turn then." Tate sighed. He entwined their legs together.

Harry ran his fingers through Tate's hair the entire time Tate talked. Tate had a very busy and gruesome past few years.

"Are you disappointed in me?" Tate asked quietly after a few minutes of silence.

Harry blinked in surprise before drawing back and looking at the other boy's face.

"No. I knew there was darkness in you, Tate. I've always known."

"But you were always trying to make it better. Make me normal."

"No," Harry shook his head slowly, "I only wanted you to be happy and alive."

"But I'm dead now." Tate pointed out.

"Well, there isn't much we can do about that now. It all worked out in the end, I suppose." Harry chuckled.

Tate laughed with him before sobering.

"It doesn't bother you at all? The things I've done. I just…Harry something in me is still _wrong_. I don't _feel_ the same things that other people do. Sometimes I don't know that I did something bad until somebody tells me." Tate's eyes welled up in tears.

"What _do_ you feel? I highly doubt you cry on command." Harry asked.

Tate blinked away his tears.

"I feel…I feel sadness. I feel loneliness, hate, lust, anger, and love. I feel a lot of things." He said sounding almost surprised.

"What _don't_ you feel?"

"Guilt," Tate said quietly, "I don't feel guilty when I kill people, but I feel guilty if I've hurt somebody I care about with my actions. But then I know I can't do whatever it was that made them sad. I tried to remember the things you used to tell me, but then everything changed and the rules didn't work anymore."

Harry stroked Tate's hair for a few moments thinking.

"Do you want me to give you rules?" Harry asked Tate seriously. Tate hesitated before nodding.

"No more rape. No killing animals. No cheating on me." Harry paused, "That's it."

"That's it?" Tate asked him in disbelief.

Harry kissed Tate softly on the lips.

"I like animals. I love you. I could also care less about killing people. Other people mean nothing to me Tate. Only you do."

Harry had definitely changed a lot over the last twenty years. Tate didn't give a damn. Instead he rolled the smaller boy onto his back and slowly kissed down his chest.

* * *

Constance was curious about the new boy. She wondered if any of the ghosts had bothered him yet. Normally, she would have been over there to meet the new neighbor by now, but Michael had been a handful lately.

All of that blood had been hard to get out of his clothes. She was going to run out of places to hide bodies soon. Constance sighed.

"Come on Michael lets go visit the new neighbor. Maybe your daddy will come out?" She grabbed the three year old's hand. A small modicum of hope welled up inside of her. She hadn't seen Tate since that whole Harmon family fiasco. He simply refused to show himself to her. Her child. Her perfect child hated her.

Constance should have drowned him at birth. Then maybe she wouldn't feel this way. Life a failure. She had failed him just like she had failed all of her kids. All of them had been disfigured in some way. Beauregard looked monstrous, Adelaide had Down syndrome, but Tate had been perfect so very perfect.

Until he killed all of those people at his high school.

It was alright now though. She had Michael now, Tate's son, and she could try again. He was perfect in body just like this daddy.

Maybe he would learn how to be more subtle about his killings like her.

* * *

Harry stared at the old woman and the toddler in his kitchen. He eyed the child curiously.

' _So this is Tate's son?_ ' Michael looked the part of an angel, but just like his father his aura pulsed with darkness and death.

"Good morning, would you like a cup of tea?" Harry asked them before moving toward the cabinet.

Constance seemed a bit startled at his lack of hostility. People usually tended to feel that way when she appeared in their house without being invited.

"That would be lovely." She nodded before seating herself at the table.

"Would you like juice or milk?" Harry smiled down at the little boy. Michael smiled back.

"Juice, please." Harry smiled at the polite child.

Afterward, the three sat down for some polite chit chat.

Harry liked Michael. Honestly, the boy reminded him of a little Tom Riddle. It was Tom's lack of guidance, and horcruxes, that had driven him into insanity. Michael, however, would be different. Harry wouldn't let such potential go to waste.

Harry didn't like Constance. The woman had messed up far too many times. Beauregard. Tate. Adelaide. Three children. Three dead. Three strikes. She would have to go.

Harry was sure that Tate wouldn't mind.

AN: So this is it for the day! I have some work I need to do. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Review if you have any ideas on how Constance should die. I'm thinking poison.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks SleepyMangaHead for the great ideas!

Thanks for the reviews guys.

I do not own HP or AHS

Chapter 4

* * *

" _You took so many, Violet. You died crying. I held you. You were safe. You died... loved."- Tate Langdon_

* * *

Tate had never been happier.

The other ghosts noticed.

Tate had killed a good portion of them and that was something that many of them were not willing to forgive.

Harry was such a nice boy. He had tea with Moira at least four times a week, and invited Constance and Michael to dinner twice a week. He worked outside in the garden during the days when Tate was busy and even baked cookies for the people at the local humane society.

Harry did not seem to have any extra baggage and they did not want the sweet boy to meet their fates.

They needed to get him away from Tate or he would be corrupted.

Oh how wrong they were

* * *

Chad and Patrick had decided to try and scare the boy away from Tate. Their fates had been beyond cruel and they did not want Harry to meet the same end. Tate was homophobic or at least that's what they had thought.

The two stared in shock.

Harry's arms were tied above his head and he was blindfolded. Tate was kissing down his chest and Harry moaned loudly when he sucked a pert nipple.

"Oh god, Tate. Please." Harry pleaded.

"Maybe we should go. They seem to be getting along just fine." Patrick shifted uncomfortably.

"Harry is tied up." Chad argued.

"I don't think he has a problem with it."

Harry let out a loud moan as if agreeing with Patrick. The two ghosts flushed and headed back down the hallway.

Chad paused at the end of the hallway and looked back in thought. He turned to Patrick and noted his flushed face.

"It was never the latex or the leather was it?" he asked quietly.

Patrick looked at him startled before shaking his head.

"It was the passion."

"We lost ours. I guess I just got too comfortable doing the same old. I tried to give you what I thought you wanted, but it was the wrong thing and too late." Chad said regrettably. He grabbed Patrick's hand and met his eyes.

"Do you want to try again?"

Patrick's eyes widened in shock.

"We didn't get to talk much before, you know. I think we really can fix this." Chad pleaded. "We don't need a baby to bring us back together. We just need to work on us."

"Okay." Patrick nodded and smiled.

Just like that Harry and Tate had Chad and Patrick on their side.

* * *

Violet was going to do something about this. She was going to tell the boy to leave before Tate hurt him. Tate did nothing, but hurt people and Harry would end up just like all of them if he didn't leave. She had intended to confront him tonight, but she was too late to save him.

Violet stared in horror at the bed.

Tate was between Harry's legs and Harry was tied to the bed. Tears leaked down his blindfold and he was pleading with Tate.

"Please, Tate. Please."

Tate merely groaned and moved faster making Harry shriek in what Violet thought was pain.

Tate was raping Harry just like he had raped her mom. Or at least that's what she thought.

Poor ignorant girl.

* * *

Moira heard from the grape vine about Tate and Harry. It had gotten around the house quickly that Tate was raping Harry. Moira was horrified; she never wanted Harry to suffer rape. She herself had been nearly raped before she was killed.

The next time she sat down to tea with the young boy she asked about Tate.

Harry looked startled at her question before blushing deeply.

"We are together." He sipped his tea calming his blush.

Moira watched him closely.

"He treats you well?" she asked carefully.

"Yes." Harry smiled.

The boy was in love. Moira could tell. There seemed to be no signs of being raped.

Could Violet have been wrong?

Moira thought so.

"Be careful around Tate, Harry. He can be very dangerous." Moira warned.

"Tate would never hurt me."

Moira merely nodded and sipped her tea again. For now she would remain neutral and watch. If Tate did indeed love Harry than she would side with them. Tate was a powerful ally to have and Harry was a good friend.

She truly had no idea on how good a friend Harry could be.

* * *

Tate was playing with Beauregard in the basement while Harry was meeting with Moira for tea. He rolled the ball to his brother.

"Tate."

Tate turned around and stood up.

"Violet," his breath caught, "what are you doing here? I thought you didn't want to see me ever again." It had been about two years since he had last seen her. He missed her; she had been a good friend before he had ruined everything.

"I want you to leave the new owner alone."

"I can't leave him alone. I love him." Tate looked stunned.

"You are going to hurt him." Violet argued, "Just like you hurt everybody else."

"I don't hurt people I love." Tate yelled.

"You hurt me," Violet said quietly, "and look at me now."

Tate felt like he had been punched in the gut.

"I loved you. I still do, Violet. I tried to save you. I tried so hard." His eyes welled up in tears. He hadn't wanted Violet to die. He had tried so hard to get the pills out of her system, but she had taken too many. He had been too late to save her.

Violet merely shook her head at him.

"Leave him alone or we make him leave."

* * *

Harry was not happy.

Tate had his head in Harry's lap crying softly.

Harry knew that Tate still loved Violet. Tate loved her deeply and had done many things to make her happy or at least he tried to. Violet had thrown Tate's gestures of love back into his face. She had made him feel like a monster, someone unlovable.

If Tate had done those things for Harry he would have praised him, loved him even more if it was possible. Tate wasn't a monster, he was just different.

That stupid fucking cow. Even now she hurt him when he had done nothing wrong. He had left her alone like she had asked and now she was trying to rip apart their happiness.

Violet had hurt Tate. His Tate.

That stupid, stupid girl.

* * *

AN: Review review review. Also the ghosts do not know that Harry knows about them. They also think that Tate is pretending to be alive for Harry.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the ideas guys!

I do not own AHS or HP

Chapter 5

* * *

 _"I think I have mommy issues. You know a good therapist?"-Tate Langdon_

* * *

"He's been raping him!"

"Honey, you've got that all wrong." Chad leaned against the wall. "Patrick and I were there that night too. Trust me, everything was beyond consensual."

"Harry had his hands tied! He couldn't get away." Violet argued.

"And he wouldn't have wanted to if he could if those moans of his were anything to go by." Patrick smirked at her. "That was sex. _Kinky_ _sex_. Although, you wouldn't know much about sex, would you?"

Violet flushed deeply. She had sex before with Tate, but he hadn't acted like that with her!

"B-but." She stuttered absolutely humiliated.

"Let it go, girly. They are happy. Leave them alone." Chad warned.

Violet flushed with ire and disappeared from their sight.

"For the first time in years it won't be Tate to cause trouble in this house." Chad frowned.

* * *

Harry ran his fingers through Tate's hair and kissed his cheek. Tate leaned into the kiss and smiled.

It didn't reach his eyes.

It had only been two days since Violet butted her head into their lives and Tate hadn't quite bounced back yet.

Harry wouldn't let this continue.

He leaned in and kissed Tate softly.

"I've been naughty." He smiled darkly.

Tate looked into his eyes intently, interested.

* * *

Constance sighed into her cup of tea.

"Is something wrong with your tea love?" Harry asked concerned. They were having midday tea this time instead of dinner. Michael was coloring, but Constance seemed a bit despondent.

"I," Constance paused for a bit collecting herself, "I've been feeling a bit under the weather lately. I went to a doctor."

"Nothing is wrong right?" Harry asked, as if he didn't already know.

Constance seemed to shrink into herself.

"I have cancer."

"No!" Harry gasped.

"It is progressing quickly," Constance said grimly, "they've given me three more months."

Constance turned and looked at Michael. It seemed like she wouldn't be given another chance after all.

Harry leaned over the table and put his hand over hers.

"If there is anything you need, please let me know." He said sincerely. Constance nodded.

Harry excused himself to use the bathroom.

Constance frowned into her tea. She looked up and was startled to see Tate in Harry's seat.

"Tate." She couldn't find any words. Here was her greatest failure, her most precious and yet most hated, child.

Tate ignored her and looked at Michael who was still coloring.

"That's a nice picture you got there. Is the girl's neck supposed to be bloody?" Tate asked.

Michael nodded.

"You know, if you use a darker red you can draw a line on her throat and pretend that somebody slit It." he added helpfully. Michael beamed and reached for the crayon.

Cute kid.

"Tate." Constance said again, but try as she might she didn't know what else to say.

Tate looked at her. _Really_ looked at her.

He felt nothing for this woman, but hatred and distaste. His whole life she had failed him. He looked at Michael again. He wouldn't let his son end up like him. Tate stood up and left the room.

He met Harry on the stairs. Tate leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"End her."

* * *

A day later, Constance fell terribly ill. The doctors couldn't do much for her; it was too late for the chemotherapy. She couldn't take care of herself and Michael. She didn't have the strength or the money. Harry, being the _generous_ person he was, invited her into his house.

Constance accepted gratefully and began to plan.

Constance sat in her new room and put on her face for the day. She looked into the mirror and smiled at the figure behind her.

"Moira."

Constance turned around and smirked at the maid. Moira watched her grimly.

"Looks like you will be seeing a lot of me for the next…eternity."

Moira hated Constance with everything in her being. She had been the one to kill her. Moira had slept with Constance's husband once in a moment of loneliness. The second time she had resisted his advances and had been nearly raped, but Constance didn't care. She killed Moira and her own husband trapping them in the house for eternity.

Constance's husband wasn't one of the aware, but Moira was. For the last few decades, Constance had endlessly tormented her and it seemed like even death would not put a stop to her cruelty.

* * *

Michael played with Tate in his new bedroom. Harry leaned down and kissed the little boy on his forehead and Tate on the lips before leaving. Harry met Tate's eyes before smiling softly.

"Have fun, you two."

Harry entered Constance's room. She hadn't been doing well the last few days.

How _awful_.

"Constance, I have the papers."

Constance had asked Harry to take custody of Michael. She didn't know anyone else she could ask to take care of him and she didn't want such a gifted boy to go into the system. At least that's what she told him. Harry didn't particularly believe her, but he couldn't make himself care.

It amused Harry profoundly that she was giving away what he had wanted all along. He would be stupid to think that she did not have an agenda.

However, if she was trying to manipulate him she could think again.

Harry was always a step ahead of her.

Constance sat up in the bed and grabbed the papers. She signed her name and initialed in the appropriate places.

She coughed into a handkerchief.

"Would you like a drink of water?" Harry asked.

"Please."

Harry retrieved her water and sat down on the edge of her bed as she drank it.

"I'm so glad you trusted me with Michael's care."

Constance put down her water.

"He will have everything he could ever want and need."

She tried to cough away a tingle in her throat. She leaned back and got comfortable on the bed.

"I will take good care of him."

Constance's throat began burning. She coughed more and gripped her throat. She looked at Harry, but he was smiling at her as if nothing was wrong. She looked into his eyes and they were cold. Oh so cold.

"I'm going to take care of him. I'm going to treat him like you should have treated Tate, Adelaide, and Beauregard." He smiled at her sweetly. A saccharine smile.

She tried to reach for him or to sit up, but she couldn't move. Her eyes widened in dismay.

"Tate died because of you, you know. You were such a terrible, terrible mother. You pushed him over the edge. You let him die." Harry's smile vanished.

"Does your chest burn yet?"

Constance would have clutched at her chest if she could move. Harry grabbed his cell phone.

"Hello? Please, I need help. My friend she's sick with cancer, but something is wrong. I think she is having a heart attack!"

Constance's eyes widened in horror. He wasn't sending her to a hospital was he? No!

Harry ended the call and turned back to her and smiled.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Did you really think I was going to let _you_ die in this house?"

Constance felt real terror for the first time in her life.

* * *

Constance died on the way to the hospital. Autopsy showed it was a heart attack, but the cancer wasn't far behind in killing her. Such a tragic thing. It was a good thing she gave her sweet neighbor custody of Michael before she passed away.

Harry leaned over Michael's bed and kissed him on the forehead.

"No more grandma?" Michael asked.

"No more grandma." Harry confirmed.

"Good."

A child after his own heart.

Harry returned to his and Tate's room.

"How did he take it?" Tate asked.

"Fairly well I think. He's young." Harry crawled into bed besides Tate. Harry cupped Tate's face and kissed him softly.

Tate smiled and this time it reached his eyes.

Harry always managed to cheer him up.

* * *

AN: I wanted to add more about the Harmons, but I felt like this was long enough. I'm trying to keep the chapters shortish for this fic. Next time Ben and Tate talk and Vivien and Ben pick sides.


	6. Chapter 6

I have had a super busy week! Short chapter, but loads of things going on. Not much Tate/Harry.

I do not own HP or AHS

Chapter 6

* * *

" _So that's your diagnosis? I'm a psychopath?"-Tate Langdon_

* * *

Someone was calling him.

That didn't happen often anymore unless it was Michael or Harry. It wasn't either of them though because Harry had taken Michael out of the house for the day.

Tate paused for a moment before appearing before his summoner.

It was Ben.

They were in Ben's old office. Ben was sitting in his chair with his notepad and a pen. Tate hesitated before sitting on the couch.

"Ben?"

"It's been awhile since we have had a session, Tate. Tell me about Harry." Ben continued to act as if he hadn't ignored Tate for the last three years. He slipped into his role as a therapist flawlessly.

Most ghosts could do that. Slip into the major role they had played in life.

That's probably why Tate killed people to solve his problems. Although, that didn't bother Tate as much as it used to. Tate lay on the couch and told him an edited version of his relationship with Harry. No one but Tate needed to know how old Harry really was and exactly _what_ he was.

Ben took notes while Tate was talking. Halfway through he pulled out an older notebook and began flipping through it and comparing notes.

Tate showing less homicidal tendencies was the biggest difference he noted. The manic or sometimes empty look in his eyes was gone. He seemed genuinely happy for the first time since Ben had met him.

Tate had been right so long ago. He had been getting better.

It wasn't Ben that was doing it though.

Ben was sure it had started with Violet; however, Tate's previous infatuation was nothing compared to what he felt for Harry. His relationship with Violet was destructive and brought both of them much pain. Tate's need to please Nora, one of the original owners of the house, had conflicted with his need to keep Violet happy.

Due to his conflicting goals everything had imploded, the Harmon family had died, Tate and Violet's relationship had ended horribly, and Tate had ended up more alone than before.

However, now it seemed as if Tate no longer felt the urge to please others, besides Harry and Michael.

Ben looked at his patient. He still believed that Tate was a psychopath, but as long as he fixated on Harry it seemed as if his homicidal tendencies were curbed. Briefly, he pondered why Tate seemed to focus on Harry so completely. Nora and Violet no longer held any sway.

The timer on the table went off jarring him from his thoughts. Tate stopped talking and looked at Ben unsurely.

"I asked you once, a long time ago, if we could be friends. Does this mean…?" Tate trailed off hesitantly.

Ben stared at the boy contemplatively.

"I expect at least a one hour session with you every time Harry and Michael leave the house." Ben leaned down and slipped his notebooks and pens back into his bag.

Ben looked up into the boy's hopeful eyes.

Ben had made his decision.

Violet would not be happy.

* * *

Tate met Harry and Michael at the door when they returned. He pulled Harry into a long kiss that left him breathless.

"What was that for?" Harry grinned dopily. Tate just smiled back happily.

"I made dinner."

After dinner they sat in the living room and played with Michael. They were playing with Legos and building a castle with a moat. The small child was talking animatedly about the witch inside that pretended to be a princess and ate everyone who tried to rescue her.

Michael was a very imaginative child.

Vivien Harmon had spoken with her husband and she was not happy with his decision.

Now, looking over the small family she wasn't so sure.

Tate was playing with their son and every few minutes would lean over and give Harry a peck on the lips much to the green-eyed boys delight. They looked like a real family.

Vivien's eyes lingered on Michael, her and Tate's biological son. She hadn't had much to do with the boy since he had been born. Constance had taken him away and no one in the house had seen him since. She wasn't sure if Constance had raised him right, probably not, but Harry seemed like a capable and loving parent. Vivien sighed and looked down at the eternal newborn in her arms, Michael's twin brother that had died mere moments after being born.

She would never see this child grow up, but she could watch Michael.

Tate had wronged her. He had wronged her family, but he had given her something precious.

Vivien would not side with Tate, but she would not go against him either.

* * *

Everything was going wrong.

Violet couldn't believe this was happening.

What was wrong with the people in this house?!

Tate had killed most of them. Hell, even his mother Constance had killed some of them. Violet didn't even trust Michael no matter how young he was. She didn't care that he was her half-brother.

That family was evil.

They were dangerous and everyone was willing to look the other way now that Harry had come. Tate could pretend to be good as much as he wanted, but Violet knew the truth. Tate was the darkness.

Couldn't they see that Tate would hurt Harry too?

Couldn't they see that it was better for Harry to leave?

Couldn't they see that Tate deserved to be alone?

* * *

AN: Oh Violet…I sense a bitter ghost.


	7. Chapter 7

I have been ridiculously busy these past few weeks? Why did I decide to go to grad school again? Oh yeah, more money.

I do not own AHS or HP

Chapter 7

* * *

" _I'll wait. Forever if I have to."-Tate Langdon_

* * *

"I can't believe this!"

"Violet, please, see it from our point of view." Ben sighed.

"You're just going to ignore everything he has done?" Violet asked angrily.

"We will never forget," Vivien stepped forward," We all have to live here, but if we do not look away from the past we will never be content."

For the first time in years all of the ghosts of the house had gathered and were aware. Most of them had drifted in and out of awareness since the new owner showed up. All of them were in agreement for once.

No one wanted the new owner dead or harmed.

His presence brought them peace. Something a good portion of them hadn't felt in decades. Some hadn't felt it even when they were alive.

Everyone felt it except Violet.

"I can't. I can't look past it."

A few of the ghosts shook their heads at the teenaged girl.

"I don't see why not. As far as I know Tate never directly wronged you, girly." Chad said. He and Patrick were leaning against the wall hand in hand.

"He hurt my family." Violet flushed darkly.

"And yet they are the people telling you to let it go." Patrick added snidely.

"She's jealous." Hayden laughed and stepped forward from the crowd of spirits.

"I am not!"

"You poor girl," Hayden mocked, "you tossed him away and now someone else has your toy. Didn't expect him to find someone else that wants him, huh?"

"You're wrong!"

"You sent him away," Hayden sneered, " _you_ sent him away. Did you want him to come crawling back to you after a few years of isolation? Break him even more just to build him back up into what you actually wanted?"

"How did that work out for you?" Hayden smiled darkly.

Violet vanished and Hayden laughed.

The older spirits sank back into peaceful oblivion, but the more aware remained.

Moira turned to the Harmons.

"You need to do something about her. Harry has brought nothing, but peace." She frowned. "Constance died off the grounds because of him. If he had never offered her a home she would have trespassed and died here. I am grateful I do not have to spend eternity with her."

No one had wanted Constance stuck there. She had caused just as much pain as Tate although hers was much more malicious.

Violet was going to be a problem.

It was difficult to punish a ghost and impossible to contain them. Physical pain was ineffective and isolation was welcome. The only true pain for them was emotional.

"I miss being able to ground her." Ben sighed.

* * *

"Hello."

"Hello I'm Harry." Harry smiled playing along.

Harry pulled another weed from his garden.

Violet hesitated for a moment. Despite all of her meddling this was the first time she had actually met Harry.

The boy was very beautiful and something about him called out to her. Made her feel…content.

She ignored it.

"I just moved back in town the other day. Have you seen Tate?" she asked.

"He's around here somewhere," Harry answered, "I could tell him you stopped by. Who are you again?"

"Violet, his ex-girlfriend."

Oh so _that's_ how she wanted to play it?

"Really? Why did you break up?" Harry asked pulling another weed.

"I moved away. We didn't want to try for a long distance relationship. Too stressful."

Harry nodded distractedly.

"Just let him know I stopped by, okay? We have to catch up." Violet left.

Harry frowned darkly. He wanted nothing more than to rip her soul to shreds for this little ploy. Harry wasn't foolish; she was trying to come in between him and Tate. Harry wouldn't let her.

Tate was _his_.

But…but Tate loved her still. Harry might have gotten away with killing Constance, but if he dealt with Violet he was sure that Tate would react badly.

Harry would have to wait. Violet would fuck up and Tate would see reason.

And then Harry could get rid of that little bint.

* * *

Tate entered his and Harry's room, but it wasn't their's right now. It was Violet's.

Every ghost in the house had the ability to take a space and revert it back to what it was when they were alive. Ben had done so with his office a few days ago.

Violet had reverted the bedroom back to hers. She was sitting on her bed and listening to music. Tate stopped in surprise.

"Violet?" he whispered.

"Hey, Tate. You want to listen to some music with me?"

Tate sat beside Violet and they listened to music like they had done when she had first moved in, when she was still alive. Tate felt like he was in a dream.

"You want to be my friend again?" Tate asked unsurely. He had waited. He had sworn that he would wait forever for her.

Violet smiled at him and for the second time in weeks Tate felt hope.

They continued to meet when Harry was busy. Tate didn't mind; it was a nice change of pace. Usually, when Harry was busy Tate was with Beauregard and lately Ben. Sometimes he was with Michael too, but that was it.

Now, it was different. He finally had his friend back. Violet was the only girl that Tate felt had understood him. Or at least she had until he did all of those things that made her hate him. It was okay now though. She didn't care anymore and they could be friends again.

He had his boyfriend, his son, his brother, and two friends now.

Tate had never been happier.

* * *

Tate slipped into bed late again,the fourth time that week. He curled around Harry or at least he tried to. Harry sat up and frowned at him.

"Where have you been lately, love?" he asked.

"I've just been busy." He sat up too and shrugged.

Harry just looked at Tate. He cupped his cheek and stroked it with his thumb softly.

"I'm giving you a new rule, Tate" Harry looked at him seriously, "Do not _lie_ to me."

Tate flinched.

"I'm sorry. It's just…I've been hanging out with Violet lately. She wants to be friends again."

Harry held in a snarl. Instead, he leaned over and kissed Tate roughly. He pushed Tate back onto the bed and straddled him. He proceeded to drive every single thought of Violet out of Tate's head.

Afterward, they cuddled together. Harry ran his fingers through Tate's hair.

"You are _mine_." He kissed Tate possessively.

"I know," Tate smiled happily, "you're mine too."

Tate soon drifted off while Harry continued stroking his hair.

Tate was ignorant of Violet's plans, but Harry wasn't. Unfortunately, for her it would soon backfire. Harry was the jealous type and he did not share well.

Violet would get what was coming to her.

* * *

AN: Violet. Violet. Violet. You better quit poking that hornet's nest.


	8. Chapter 8

Apparently SleepyMangaHead and I are on the same wavelength...Short chapter guys. I was going to end it here, but I need to think on the ending a bit longer.

I do not own HP or AHS

Chapter 8

* * *

 _"Something has changed in you. Towards me. You're distant, cold."- Tate Langdon_

* * *

"Now you behave today, Michael," Harry leaned down and kissed the toddler on the forehead, "be good for the workers and have fun with the animals."

Michael nodded and smiled. The workers at the local humane society were thrilled to have Michael for the day. He and Harry stopped by weekly with baked goods and other treats. When Harry had expressed the need for a babysitter for the day the workers had nearly jumped on the opportunity.

Harry had passed his love of animals to Michael. The animals at the humane society loved them which was quite the conundrum considering Harry's status and Michael's more...homicidal tendencies. Not that Harry was complaining, Michael's homicidal tendencies seemed to vanish at the humane society. So, Harry knew it was safe to leave the young child there without his supervision. Safe for others that is.

Now, Harry had the day with Tate.

Tate had continued spending time with Violet. Unfortunately, their little playdates were beginning to cut into the time Tate spent with Harry. Today was one such day and Harry was not happy. Tate was supposed to meet with Violet at noon and hang out today. Harry thought it was time that the cow learned her place.

Tate moaned and craned his head back giving Harry more access. Harry sucked a hickey on his pale throat. Harry's eyes found the clock and he smiled. He flicked his free hand and the clock went back twenty minutes.

"How about a quickie love?" he whispered into Tate's ear. Tate groaned and looked at the clock before nodding. They were in the living room on the couch, but they should be done before Violet got there.

Tate was balls deep in Harry when Violet arrived. The girl flushed deeply and sputtered absolutely mortified before rushing out of the room. Tate flushed, but Harry kissed him softly.

"You can leave if you want." Harry rocked his hips causing Tate to grab them and gasp.

Lustful black eyes stared into his.

"She can wait."

Any fragment of jealousy Harry felt was replaced with smug triumph.

Tate was _his_.

That girl was _nothing_.

Harry leaned forward hiding his face into Tate's neck and smiled.

* * *

Violet paced back and forth in the other room. This could not be happening. She had really thought she was making a difference the past two weeks. If she could just drive a wedge between them Harry would wake up notice how _wrong_ Tate was. Then he would leave the house (and Tate) for good; maybe he would even take that creepy little boy with him. She was dismayed when _sounds_ resumed in the other room. She disappeared upstairs into the bedroom.

Tate entered thirty minutes later still ruffled from his tryst with Harry.

"Sorry. I got caught up." he grinned.

Violet merely frowned at him. He didn't even seem the least bit guilty for sleeping with someone else. Violet shook her head and pushed the thought away. Hayden was wrong, she was _not_ jealous.

"I don't see why you are with him." Violet scowled crossing her arms.

"He loves me, and I love him" Tate smiled, "He makes me happy."

"It just doesn't seem like a good idea. He's _alive_ Tate and you're _dead_." She stressed.

"It didn't matter when I was with you. Why are you acting so cold? I don't-I don't feel like a bad person around him." Tate tried to explain.

"But you _are_ a bad person Tate!" Violet blurted out.

The room descended into silence.

"I thought...I thought we were friends." Tate said in hurt disbelief.

Violet remained silent and Tate's eyes welled up with tears.

"I was wrong about you," the tears on his cheeks felt cold, "I thought you wanted to be my friend again, but you just wanted to take me away from Harry."

Tate looked at the girl he used to love.

"I'll never let you take him away from me. Go away, _Violet_."

Violet's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Go _away_ , Violet."

"Tate-"

"Go _away_ , Violet!" Tate yelled.

Violet vanished from his sight. He sobbed for a few minutes before stumbling downstairs to find Harry.

"I _trusted_ her. I _loved_ her." He cried in Harry's arms, " _I hate her_!" Anger, hate, and hurt warred inside of him, but the ever present love he had felt for Violet had finally vanished.

"She won't ever bother you again, Tate. _I swear_." Harry kissed Tate's forehead, a cruel smile on his lips.

Violet would dearly regret crossing Tate for the rest of her unlife.

* * *

Harry went to pick up Michael a few hours later. He had spent the last few hours holding Tate and comforting him. The spirit had been incredibly distraught over Violet's betrayal. Harry almost regretted letting them continue to meet, but it needed to be done. Tate needed to see that Violet was not to be trusted. She was no longer the girl he used to know.

Death had twisted her into a bitter and cruel spirit. Her cruelty was wrapped in the guise of righteousness; why else would she try to separate them?

Harry and Tate would not let anybody separate them ever again. They had both waited decades to see each other. Tate might have faltered in the end, but he had always remained Harry's.

Tate was never Violet's. _Never_.

Harry put Michael to bed.

"Daddy's not feeling well today, sweetie. He will read you a story tomorrow night"

"Did daddy get hurt?" Michael frowned.

"Yes, someone hurt daddy," Harry frowned, "a bad girl."

Michael's frown deepened.

"Did he hurt her back?" he asked, shifting in the bed to get comfortable.

" _I_ will." Harry smiled darkly.

"Good," Michael smiled, "don't get caught though. At least that's what grandma Constance always used to say."

"Indeed." Harry chuckled. The irony was not lost on him.

Harry left the room smirking.

All of the ghosts felt it; change was coming to the murder house.

Only time would tell if it was a good change or a bad one.

* * *

AN:SleepyMangaHead I adore you and your ideas. You are a huge help for this fic. Next chapter will be the last guys. Violet gets what is coming to her.


	9. Chapter 9

I do not own AHS or HP

Chapter 9

* * *

" _You told me to go away._ _"- Tate Langdon_

* * *

"Harry can we talk? I have something very important to tell you." Tate looked down at his feet.

A curious ghost peered into the conversation. A few minutes later he walked away stunned, he couldn't believe it.

Ben Harmon went to find his wife immediately.

* * *

Violet could not believe what she was hearing. There was no way Harry accepted ghosts. There was no way he accepted Tate's evil past. There was no fucking way.

Yet, she could see it for herself. Harry and Tate were closer than ever and the rest of the ghosts were in a tizzy. Moria had shown both of her faces to Harry and he took it in stride. Chad and Patrick had even stopped by for fucking afternoon tea. They even told Harry they had accepted what Tate had done to them and while they did not forgive him, they no longer hated him. Even Violet's own parents had visited Harry. Vivien had been delighted to actually spend a bit of time with Michael.

Violet had never been more furious in her life. This was not supposed to happen. All of this was wrong! So very wrong! Why was she the only one with sense?!

Violet paced back and forth in the hallway. The other ghosts were having a goddamn party (a meeting, but it seemed like a party to her) and she did not want to attend. There had to be something she could do. Anything. She stomped towards the steps.

Harry was coming up them.

Fury blinded her.

When she could think clearly again Harry was lying on the bottom of the steps. Neck snapped and eyes staring blankly straight ahead.

Horrified Violet vanished.

* * *

Tate crouched down next to Harry and watched in fascination as his neck snapped back into place and life pooled back into his eyes. The green-eyed boy took a deep breath and his heart started beating again.

Harry's eyes met his.

Tate was finally in agreement. She had played with Tate's heart and had damaged Harry's body. Violet needed to suffer for what she had done to both of them.

Tate's black eyes held no remorse for what they were about to do.

Harry smiled.

* * *

"I haven't been exactly truthful with all of you. I wasn't very shocked when Tate told me he was a ghost because," Harry paused, "I already knew ghosts existed. I have met several ghosts back in England, but none of them were quite as...normal as all of you."

Harry took a deep breath and surveyed the crowd of stunned ghosts. Violet stood in the back horrified.

Hadn't she killed him? Harry was a ghost like them now...right?

"Its not only ghosts that exist, but magic as well."

Harry met Violet's eyes and smiled. Only _she_ saw how cold they were, how empty.

"Yes, magic exists. I have been researching since Tate told me his secret,"Harry paused," I can set you all free."

Every ghost in the house had their eyes trained on Harry.

"I found out how to free all of you. You can all finally move on and be with your friends, loved ones, and family. All of you can be free."

One by one the ghosts stepped forward and approached Harry. First the less aware and finally the stronger ghost.

Moira approached Harry with tears in her eyes.

"Thank you."

Ben, Vivien and Michael Harmon were the last to move on. They were completely oblivious to the fact that Violet had not stepped forward as well. It was as if she no longer existed.

And she didn't. Not truly.

The Harmons would never remember they even had a daughter. In fact none of the ghosts would remember Violet Harmon existed.

"Not you, love," Harry smiled cruelly, " _you_ are staying."

Violet had antagonized the one person that could free her from the cursed house.

"You can't do this." She stared at him horrified.

"Do you honestly think you can stop me?" Harry laughed.

"Tate-" Violet pleaded.

"I saw what you did to Harry. _You hurt him_. I used to think you were different Violet, but now I know better." Tate shook his head at Violet. "I love Harry, I've loved him for over twenty years. I may have thought I loved you, but now I know differently. It was always _him_."

"Twenty years?" Violet stuttered, "But how?"

"I'm going away now Violet." Tate smiled emptily. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of an answer. She would think about it for the rest of her unlife.

"No please! Don't leave me alone!" Violet cried out.

"Goodbye Violet." Tate took Harry's hand and for the first time in years Tate walked off of the property.

* * *

Harry smiled at Tate before they walked into the humane society to pick up their son.

"I love you."

Tate leaned over and kissed him softly.

"I love you too. Forever and always."

* * *

AN: This chapter was nearly completed for about a month to be honest. My classes are demanding a lot of attention right now. I hope you guys enjoyed the fic! I will work on Harry in Agrabah next. It has about one more chapter left.


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